


rain with cappuccino

by mochacreams



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Bliss, Established Relationship, Gift Work, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Making Out, Romantic Fluff, Service Top, Sexual Tension, Teasing, Unspecified Setting, not sexually here but you know what i mean, shuake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:33:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25702882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochacreams/pseuds/mochacreams
Summary: don't bother with excuses, let's gulp down the cappuccino and pretend to be foolish(akira, akechi, and a late night spent together)
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 12
Kudos: 81





	rain with cappuccino

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jianbird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jianbird/gifts).



> i dont know anything about persona ♥️
> 
> this is what i can gather from watching michie play p5r, looking at the fanart she sends me, and reading various wiki pages... so bear with any inconsistencies here, i tried to be vague about the setting on purpose so i hope you can enjoy it regardless. 
> 
> ANYWAY happy birthday michie ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡) send her well wishes if you can!

It's nearing midnight when the door creaks open, then closes, then locks behind the interloper. The moon can't even shine its light through the plump, gray clouds hanging in front of the stars—the apartment is abnormally pitch dark.

It had been drizzling before, providing a lulling white noise, but it's much heavier now. At least he hadn't gotten soaked on the way here.

A _meow_ pierces through the blackness and silence; he spots shining cat eyes that reflect the dim, yellow hanging lamp in the kitchen. He's on the arm of the couch, and Akechi pets the black fur of his head as he passes, headed toward the golden light.

( _And_ the man waiting under it, sitting at the high stool at the island counter)

Akechi slips his shoes off, because admittedly he'd forgotten to at the door, and speaks up before the other can, "You didn't have to wait up for me."

"But I wanted to." The bastard _always_ has to. Normally he'd relish in it but he's been working overtime for the past four days straight—and maybe he cares about Akira's wellbeing more than his own. "Welcome home."

Already on the tabletop at his seat is a slice of strawberry tiramisu, and Akira passes over a small steaming cup from his spot across from him. The saucer glides on the granite as if it were an ice cube. Akechi cups it with a palm before he slides onto the cushioned stool.

_Should you be drinking that so late?_ Akira wants to say, but every time it falls on deaf ears, despite Akechi always politely stating he won't next time.

~~Despite Akira always brewing some for him, anyways.~~

This is how it always goes.

The cup touches Akechi's lips only twice before he can manage to push the drowsiness aside and take a good look at Akira: Gray pajamas on, hair messy, glasses disheveled and almost falling off his nose. Like he'd tried to nap beforehand in an attempt to stave his tiredness away. 

"You need to sleep more," he says bluntly, after his third sip, and as the bottom of the cup touches the saucer.

Akira's dark eyes study him from above his even darker bags. "Hmm. I'll have to disagree with you."

"As you always do." What a pain. Now, Akechi's fork clinks against the careful porcelain of his plate. "Here you are, staying up late until I get home, making me coffee, buying cakes…" The strawberry taste is delicious in his mouth, but he's good at hiding that sort of thing in his expressions. "You're a regular housewife."

"You say that like it's a bad thing, _honey_." When he looks over, Akira's head is resting in his arms, which are curled up against the countertop; the lazy smile he's giving strikes some kind of chord. 

But Akechi just nibbles on another bite of tiramisu. Akira's eyes flicker between wide-eyed and glazed over.

Akechi marvels at the way he looks like a zombie, staring intently until Akira mumbles out an excuse, "Resting my eyes."

Thankfully he doesn't snort into his coffee, but instead into an empty fork.

The rain outside goes pitter-patter.

"So how exhausted are you, really?" Akechi presses, crossing his right leg over the left.

“I don’t know what you mean. I could stay up for hours.”

“Bullshit.” And Akechi calls bullshit. 

Akira sits up, propped up on his elbow and with a palm cradling his chin. By now, Akechi has gotten up from his chair—half a cake left and his cup a quarter full—and closed the distance between them. 

His hand grabs Akira’s chin (Akira, who’s so tired that his reaction time is sluggish), fingers cupping his jaw and the tips sinking into his cheek. The way he grips his face is rough and rushed and forceful but also...sweet. 

All Akira can register is the smell of Akechi’s cologne. And his lips—they taste like hazelnut and mascarpone cream. Akira’s hand finds itself floating upward, and covering up Akechi’s, brushing his knuckles. 

"I can take care of you, just this once,” Akechi says, once he finally pulls away. 

Akira laughs sleepily, seemingly unfazed. "Sounds good for a change."

Their footsteps on the hardwood go pitter-patter. 

The burgundy couch is soft like velvet, and they sink into the cushions. For now they’re content with Akira lying down, back pressed into a pillow that’s against the armrest, and Akechi straddling him. 

Akechi spreads himself, laying down with his head nestled into Akira’s chest. Their legs are tangled into a mess, but it wouldn’t be better any other way. 

His lips find Akira’s jawline again, and he peppers quick kisses along it. Fingers flit against Akira’s loose shirt, pulling the collar down for better access. 

There’s a hiss, and Akechi jerks his gaze upward, but not too violently (which, of course, makes a laugh come from Akira). 

The black and white cat, who’d been sleeping on top of the back cushion, pokes his chin up pretentiously and prances away on silent paws. Akechi pointedly ignores the gesture and dives back down, this time suckling the soft skin of Akira’s neck. 

“Just tell me what you need,” he mumbles into the flesh, grabbing the thick frames of Akira’s glasses and taking them off. Pesky. He sets them down on the tall side table behind Akira’s head. 

“You’re gonna leave the lights off? How virginal.” Despite the teasing, Akira looks too utterly exhausted to really, _truly_ complain about it. 

“My, how picky you are… You ought to be more grateful.” Akechi has his arms hanging around Akira’s neck, now, savoring the sparks of contact. 

Again, his hands start to roam, eventually settling on running through Akira’s mussed hair—caressing those jet black wisps. For his part, Akira slides his fingers down Akechi’s back, touching the knobs of his spine through his thin button-up shirt. 

He melts into a cacophony of soft breaths when Akechi meets his lips again, and this time it’s a salty kiss. Salty and sweet like Europe’s finest chocolate. 

Outside, the rain pounds into the asphalt of the alleyways and the shingles of the roof—

It looked like the downpour would be turning into a thunderstorm.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! i hope it was at least entertaining even if some things are a little off 
> 
> [TWITTER](https://twitter.com/togeklssu)   
>  [KOFI](https://ko-fi.com/mochacreams)


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